Transformers MTMTE: Its Just a Broken Smile
by DodgeStreaker
Summary: Just because he's smiling and all cheery, do you ever stop to think that maybe its all fake? - Disclaimer: Transformers MTMTE (c) Hasbro/IDW - Note: Prompt was originally suggested by my friend Josh, thanks Josh, this one's for you :D


Drift seemed to be one of those carefree mechs without a fear whatsoever, like nothing was ever going to get him and that he was perfectly at peace with everything and everyone. He smiled what seemed to be day in and day out no matter the treatment towards others, taking it in like a source of fuel and bursting it out with positive energy. Taking others abusive words and comments with him, calling him a dirty 'Con and murmuring traitor behind his back, but he listened and seemed perfectly fine, smooth metal with rushing water over it. A way of life but all he ever did was except it, take the fact that he knew he should be disgraced upon his past, but instead he left it behind him, looking forward to a brighter future.

His smile, it never seemed to falter and others might just question if he's insane, if he possibly had a glitch in his processor or if his CPU was running correctly. He passed the comments and kept on walking, he smiled and he put up that mask of cheerful joyness just to hide himself away. His real side, the one full of pain, angony, full of questioning and distress, still waiting and hoping for another mech to come and save him like those two who had originally did...And how he missed them so. Though when others were away, and he was locked in his quarters once again, pretending to be meditating to clear his consciousness as iof apart of his daily rituals. However instead he would stare in a mirror, trying to pieve himself back together, the parts he had lost during his time as a guttermech to the time he was a Decepticon, his short amount of time as a Knight of Light and then now, an Autobot.

What was really meant for his life anymore? He inquired himself through many tasks, many things to try to gain the trust of another, and he just keeps on trying all while keeping up his masquerade. Days go on, weeks, months and years. With each passing solar cycle his smile still ceases to falter in front of the others, not a frown to the world until the time of battle, instead, replacing that with a straight concentrated look. He switches between these masks, though truly never using ones of mourning or sadness, as if he had never lost someone or something he had truly kept close to his spark. He just another one they wished not to care about, believing his faking and just going with it, no further details asked...

* * *

He has yet to leave his quarters, though he could probably find an excuse that he had lost count of the chrono while meditating when stumbling across Ultra Magnus and being demanded on the reason for being late for his work shift. The excuse was one of being poor but he didn't care much for it. Staring into the mirror, he was met with tired blue optics, glowing dully, he wondered why he continued his masquerade, he has yet to weep or mourn soulfully to those he has lost and he has yet to find another to even remember, he felt sick and dead inside. Alone.

Who was really there for him? Perceptor was his closest but he hasn't let his feelings for the sniper sink in yet, fearing to get too close. Rodimus, he was his Captain and his friend, a good one in his case and he'd follow him to the very end, or was those feelings a pained lie to reality to? He wouldn't really know, he was there for others but it was kindly returned to him back, still being seen as that doubling crossing 'Con. The grip of his old self, Deadlock, just seemed to be latched onto him more then he truly thought. It was a horrifying thought, that others would still think of him really of that brutal, cold sparkless killer, he was disgusted...

By this time, the tears had finally come, thing streams of coolant rolling down the sides of his cheeks, all his composure was lost. He wasn't like Ambulon, he wasn't calm and able to take the abuse without snapping, without dying a little inside thinking he'd betray them at any moment and he couldn't keep himself locked up forever and now they were flowing out of him in a flood of broken emotions as he sobbed, curling up to himself in the corner of his private washracks. Where was the justice in all this? Haven't they ever even considered a thought for his feelings?

_ Because even though he's smiling, is he truly happy?_


End file.
